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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23034136">it comes and goes (in waves)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest'>seekrest</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>IronDad Bingo [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drunk Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, Light Angst, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, life is a lil complicated sometimes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23034136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter hears the familiar whine of the pulsers behind him before they actually arrive, gazing listlessly out to the city street. He sways a little on the balcony’s edge, takes another swig of the bottle before wiping his mouth. </p><p>The soft thud behind him tells Peter that Tony is behind him but Peter can’t bring himself to care.</p><p>“Pete? You doing alright, kid?” </p><p>On some level in Peter’s drunk-addled mind, he can register the slight undertone of panic in Tony’s voice, trying and failing to be calm. It’s not working, even Peter can hear that, but he ignores it.</p><p>He sways a little more, takes another swig.</p><p> —</p><p>IronDad Bingo: Alcohol</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>IronDad Bingo [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>273</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it comes and goes (in waves)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumphoarder/gifts">whumphoarder</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter hears the familiar whine of the pulsers behind him before they actually arrive, gazing listlessly out to the city street. He sways a little on the balcony’s edge, takes another swig of the bottle before wiping his mouth. </p><p>The soft thud behind him tells Peter that Tony is behind him but Peter can’t bring himself to care.</p><p>“Pete? You doing alright, kid?” </p><p>On some level in Peter’s drunk-addled mind, he can register the slight undertone of panic in Tony’s voice, trying and failing to be calm. It’s not working, even Peter can hear that, but he ignores it.</p><p>He sways a little more, takes another swig.</p><p>“Peter.” Tony’s voice is firm now, almost scared. Peter turns to face him, a little surprised that Tony’s actually there. </p><p>The suit’s completely dematerialized, Tony looking like he half-stumbled out of bed.</p><p>A part of Peter recognizes that since he lives out in the cabin now - some odd 200 miles away - he likely had. </p><p>It doesn’t kick in for Peter why he’s there, his eyes just lazily looking back out to the city. He goes for another drink, only to find the bottle is empty. </p><p>Peter frowns, staring at the empty bottle before saying, “That’s my last one.”</p><p>“I think that’s a safe bet, kid. Shit, how many of those have you had?” Peter shrugs, letting the bottle fall to his side.</p><p>He can’t see it, but he can imagine the wince that Tony must have on his face, likely counting the excessive and damning evidence of Peter’s own misery. </p><p>It had taken twenty-six bottles of beer before he’d started to feel anything close to a buzz, another ten before his vision started to blur. Peter’s not sure how he made it to the roof of this building anymore, the memory of it hazy and disconnected in his memory.</p><p>All he knows is that he both does and doesn’t feel like shit anymore. </p><p>“Peter, I need you to look at me.” Peter does, turning his head slightly, his body slightly wavering again. </p><p>Now that he’s gone at least thirty seconds without guzzling more alcohol down his throat, Peter can recognize that Tony not only looks like he dragged himself out of bed, but also looks slightly frantic - panicked in a way that Peter doesn’t think he’s seen before. </p><p>“Pete, whatever it is. Let’s just… let’s just talk okay?” Peter frowns, swaying forwards as he tries to adjust. Tony extends a hand out, his voice sharp and much higher than Peter’s ever heard it.</p><p>“Kid, don’t—”</p><p>“Don’t what?” Peter turns to face him, the wind softly whipping at his shirt. He’s looking straight on to Tony now, his back to the city.</p><p>“Pete, why don’t, why don’t you come down from there? Alright? Let’s… let’s just talk over here?” Tony has a hand out, beckoning for Peter to follow. </p><p>It takes Peter a few seconds of staring at him in confusion for the realization to hit.</p><p>Peter laughs, those there’s no humor in it as he asks, “You think, you think I’m gonna jump?”</p><p>Peter can see the panic that flashes through Tony’s eyes, eyes widening before his head shakes. “No, no I don’t. I’m here, kid. Whatever it is---”</p><p>Peter rolls his eyes, stepping forward onto the roof. He can see the immediate relief that overwhelms Tony, his hand reaching out to stable Peter who is still swaying as he shakes his head. </p><p>“I’m drunk, not stupid.” </p><p>Tony immediately brings him into a hug, the pressure of it almost suffocating Peter.</p><p>“It’s not stupid, Pete. Whatever it is, whatever you’re feeling, it’s not… it’s not stupid.” Peter’s arms awkwardly embrace Tony, giving him a slight pat on the back.</p><p>He hadn’t expected Tony to come, had specifically left his suit at home to avoid something like this. Peter hears the sharp exhale Tony gives, bringing him out of the hug as his arms firmly grab Peter’s. </p><p>Now that the threat of whatever Tony’s mind had raced to was over, it seemed that the relief had immediately changed into fury. </p><p>“What the hell were you thinking, Peter? Drinking? Coming up to this roof? I don’t…” Peter blinks, Tony shaking him. </p><p>“Answer me, dammit. What the fuck’s gotten into you?” </p><p>Peter shrugs Tony’s arms off, swaying and stumbling as goes for his backpack. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter, Mr. Stark. I’ll head home.”</p><p>“Like hell you will. You smell like a brewery.” Peter snorts, rolling his eyes. </p><p>“It’s Friday night in New York. Everyone smells like I do.” He puts his arms out, gesturing towards the city. </p><p>Tony is stone-faced, staring back at him with a look that Peter doesn’t recognize. Peter shrugs, grabbing his backpack.</p><p>“Kid, come on. You can barely stand up.” Tony nudges his arm for Peter to look up at his face, Peter seeing the rage transformed into concern. </p><p>“Talk to me, Pete.” </p><p>Peter smirks. “That’s just it, Mr. Stark. Apparently, I’m shit at talking.” He shakes his head. “Shit at everything, I guess.” </p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter sighs, letting his backpack fall. Tony watches for a beat before bringing the kid down to the roof’s floor, Peter following without prompting. He brings his knees up, resting his elbows on them as he sighs once again.</p><p>“She dumped me, Mr. Stark.” Tony’s silent, watching as Peter sniffles, his throat suddenly feeling dry despite the constant liquid he’d poured down it for the past hour and a half. </p><p>“She said I wasn’t <em>talking </em>to her, said I wasn’t listening or some shit.” Peter laughs again, feeling the tears starting to form. He sniffles, tries to force them back down. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I don’t talk? I don’t listen? I’m fucking Spider-Man, I never shut the hell up.” </p><p>Tony doesn’t laugh, doesn’t seem to move. Peter looks up, seeing as Tony is just watching him. </p><p>There’s a part of Peter that recognizes Tony is just waiting for him to continue, giving him the space to talk out whatever it is he’s going through in a way that’s desperately needed.</p><p>But his alcohol-drenched brain refutes that, misconstruing it in the worst way.</p><p>“And now <em>you’re </em>not talking to me.”</p><p>“Just listening, kid.” </p><p>Peter snorts again, the sound awkward and obnoxious to his own ears. He can feel the alcohol streaming through his bloodstream, can feel even then that even if his senses are dulled and the slight buzzing in his ears is probably due to the warmth of it working itself through his system, it’s as if the city has still dialed up to eleven.</p><p>Peter closes his eyes, breathing deeply for a few seconds before Tony speaks up again. </p><p>“You want to talk about what happened?” Peter shakes his head, a bit too forcefully.</p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>Peter glances back up, seeing the neutral look on Tony’s face.</p><p>“That’s it?” He asks as Tony shrugs, crossing his legs as he brings his own arms to close around them. </p><p>“We don’t have to talk, kid. We can just sit here.” He nods towards Peter. “Let the alcohol burn through your system for a bit.” </p><p>Peter doesn’t respond, bringing his head back down as he thinks. </p><p>It was stupid, getting drunk on a Friday night. Stupider still to do so on a rooftop without telling anyone around him what he was doing.</p><p>But Michelle had broken up with him a week ago, the fight still reverberating around in his head anytime he closed his eyes.</p><p>Nothing made any fucking sense anymore. What was a little alcohol binge after the world had fucking ended and your girlfriend broke up with you for something as stupid as a fight about college? </p><p>Peter closes his eyes, even knowing with how drunk he was that he wasn’t being fair to her.</p><p>Michelle was right, he hadn’t been talking to her - not really, always avoiding the subject until they’d fought last week.</p><p>But then, it felt like no one had ever listened to him.</p><p>Peter didn’t see the big deal about choosing to go to Columbia or what the hell everyone’s problem was about him deciding to stick around in New York. </p><p>Peter knew May was thrilled in a sense, that Peter wasn’t moving off some four hours away.</p><p>But he still saw the look she gave him when he’d talk about finding an apartment closer to campus, the shared glances between her and Tony when he’d talk about sending off Ned to MIT. </p><p>It made sense to him, staying in New York. Michelle was going to NYU, it wasn’t like it was distance.</p><p>On paper it was the best of everything - be close to his family and his girlfriend, go to a good school, study something he was interested in, <em>and </em>get to be Spider-Man. </p><p>But even for as drunk as he was, Peter could still see how frustrated Michelle had been - knowing as well as anyone that he’d wanted to go to MIT for years, saying that he hiding the real reason from her for why he wanted to stay in the city. </p><p>He glances back up at Tony, the man looking out towards the city. </p><p>Peter knew Tony wasn’t thrilled about him staying in the city either, for reasons that he had neither the patience nor the inclination to ask about.</p><p>It didn’t make sense to him, everyone’s push for him to choose MIT. </p><p>He’d wanted it when he was younger, vividly remembering the days Ben used to talk to him about chasing his dreams for college long before he’d ever started high school.</p><p>But that was then, before everything.</p><p>Before the world ended.</p><p>Before he’d died.</p><p>Before he came back. </p><p>Now here they were, a world entirely different and yet frustratingly similar. It grounded Peter, the possibility of staying in New York - of being close to the city that he loved. </p><p>Peter would be lying if the thought of missing out on college experiences with Ned didn’t burn something within him, the doubt and insecurity creeping in that maybe he really was being the dumbass everyone thought he was being. </p><p>But a greater part of Peter was terrified, the idea of moving out of New York - out of the safety of the boroughs and places that he knew. </p><p>He’d just wanted to stay close to something he knew, something he could control - could understand. </p><p>If anything, Peter thought Michelle would be thrilled that they’d be in the same city - especially since they both knew the probability of a high school relationship actually making the jump into college was just a fight against the inevitable.</p><p>But there had been a part of Peter that felt - deeply, truly, indescribably believed even - that he and Michelle were different. That they actually <em>could </em>make it work.</p><p>Something that would be even more likely if they stayed in the city together.</p><p>On some level - even drunk out of his mind - Peter thinks that maybe Michelle wasn’t completely wrong to break up with him, stopping themselves from saying anything further that would’ve just hurt each other deeply. </p><p>But now, a week removed with Peter feeling drunk and more miserable than he’s felt since he had faded away into nothing, he almost wishes their fight had been worse. That they’d really had it out with each other. </p><p>Maybe if it awful, he could pretend he didn’t still love her. Maybe if she had said something terrible to him, he could pretend that she didn’t love him.</p><p>Peter could even recognize that maybe it really <em>was</em> just how Michelle had put it - a break, a pause while they figured out how to talk to each other better. The idea of it blossomed hope within him but he didn’t dare give it time to grow.</p><p>Maybe they really were only taking a break. </p><p>It didn’t make it hurt any less. </p><p>Peter sighs, sniffling as he wipes his nose again. </p><p>“You ever fuck up so bad, you don’t even know how to fix it?” He asks as Tony snaps to attentionz</p><p>“You forget who you’re talking to, kid. I literally invented the fuck-up alright? Have a patent out and everything.” Peter lets out a small laugh, genuine this time as Tony smiles. </p><p>Peter feels the tears still threatening to break, doesn’t even bother trying to stop them as they begin to fall. </p><p>“I really messed up, Mr. Stark.” </p><p>Tony puts a hand out to his shoulder, the weight of it comforting to Peter. </p><p>“You’ll figure it out, Pete. You always do.” </p><p>Peter shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know… I think I really hurt her.” Peter’s eyes are downcast, biting his lip as he thinks.</p><p>The alcohol is clearing out of his system quicker than he anticipated, but then Peter hasn’t really drank before. He can already feel a small numbing and pressing pain in the back of his head. </p><p>It’s the kind of clarity that you only get at the empty end of a bottle, the sheer dumb luck of having all your inhibitions down. </p><p>Michelle was right. He hadn’t been talking to her. If he had, if he’d just explained what he was feeling - she would’ve understood.</p><p>Michelle was unlike anyone he’d ever met, someone who seemed to take everything that he did in stride. </p><p>She really seemed to love him. And Peter was sure he loved her back. </p><p>“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore? What if… what if I really messed this up?” Peter feels the sob in the back of his throat. </p><p>The thought of their break up becoming permanent aches at Peter, the idea not of Michelle moving away - but of moving on. </p><p>“I.. I love her, Mr. Stark.” Peter brings his eyes back up to Tony, the tears steadily streaming down his face.</p><p>“I know that probably sounds stupid, like I’m some dumb seventeen year-old kid.” </p><p>“First off,” Tony interjects, “You’re not dumb, Pete. You swing around in a spandex suit as a hobby and can lift a bus over your head, kid. You’re not a normal seventeen-year old by a long shot.” Peter laughs, sniffling as Tony continues. </p><p>“Second…” Tony trails off, seemingly searching for the words to say. “You… you’ve been through hell, kid. So has Michelle.” Tony grips Peter’s shoulder tighter, the act of it focusing Peter on Tony even more. </p><p>“I can’t say I know what’s going on between you two but I could give it a guess.” Tony twitches his lips, before taking a deep breath.</p><p>“But that’s a conversation for another day. Right now, the important thing for you to know is this.” Tony leans in a little further now, getting right into Peter’s face. </p><p>“Whatever happens between the two of you, whatever you two decide, it’s going to be okay.”</p><p>”What if it’s not?” Peter asks, his voice barely above a whisper. </p><p>“It will be.” Tony’s voice is firm, “Whatever happens, whatever you decide, you’re going to make it through it alright? You’re not alone, Pete. Not now, not ever.” </p><p>Peter nods, leaning forward until he almost falls into Tony’s arm. Tony immediately embraces him, holding him up as Peter burrows his head into his chest. </p><p>He’s sure Michelle loves him, can only reason in his clouded brain that she’d broken up with him <em>because </em>she did.</p><p>It still hurt, even more so because of his own part in it - wondering if he’d just been honest if their fight would’ve even happened. </p><p>It was too late to go back and change it, but a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe there was still a chance that he could fix it. </p><p>They sit there for a minute, Peter feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to fade. He suddenly feels a wave of nausea, the impact of it sudden and surprising. Tony seems to sense the change in Peter, though how he doesn’t know. </p><p>“You alright there?”</p><p>“I think I’m going to be sick.” Tony just laughs, smoothing some of the hair on the top of Peter’s head. </p><p>“You drank half the liquor store it seemed. Who the hell even sold you all of this?” Peter shrugs, Tony bringing him out of the embrace. </p><p>“How did you find me? I didn’t bring my suit.” Tony just gives him a look, before rolling his eyes. </p><p>“You got your secrets and I’ll keep mine. Come on, Pete, you good to stand?” Peter nods, regretting the action almost immediately.</p><p>In a manner of minutes, it seems as if he’s gone straight from drunk to hungover, the dulling effects of the alcohol giving way to sheer pain and nausea. </p><p>He lets Tony help him up, still wobbling slightly as he looks around. </p><p>“How are we getting—”</p><p>“I called a car, kid. You think this is my first late night rodeo?” Peter raises an eyebrow, the act of it further setting off the pressure headache forming behind his eyes. </p><p>“You’re not mad?” </p><p>“Oh I’m pissed as hell kid, but an angry lecture when you’re drunk is forgettable.” Tony gives him a look, the impact of it hitting at Peter. </p><p>“A pissed off lecture when you’re hungover is one you’ll never forget.” Peter sighs, closing his eyes. </p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“Come on kid, I’ll yell at you when you’re sober.” Tony puts his hand around Peter’s shoulders, leading him towards the roof doors. </p><p>Even as Peter stumbles along, the alcohol fading from his system - Tony’s words about Michelle are still ringing in his ears.</p><p>Maybe there was something to salvage between them. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they had seemed. Peter knows he wouldn’t be able to figure that out tonight.</p><p>But as he follows Tony along, already regretting the night’s events and the lecture he was inevitably going to follow - Peter’s convinced that Tony was right about one thing. </p><p>He wasn’t alone. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If this looks familiar, it’s cause it is! Reposting IronDad bingo stories for anyone who wants to bookmark separately. </p><p>Dedicated to whumphoarder cause she likes drunk peter fics as much as I do :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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